


Dry

by hoosierbitch



Category: White Collar
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Kink, M/M, Porn, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoosierbitch/pseuds/hoosierbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's about more than just trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dry

**Author's Note:**

> Don't try this at home.
> 
> Lube = ur friend.

Neal whimpers when he pulls out, slowly, gives him a gasp when the head of his cock stretches him again. He dips a finger into the cum on Neal's belly and lets him lick it clean, watches Neal's hole twitch and try to close as he strips off the condom and throws it away. Neal's tight, still. But not as tight as he was when they started. He grins at Neal, sprawled over the bed, thoroughly debauched. Bite marks trailing from his nipples to his thighs, dark hickeys on his neck. A lazy smile gracing his lips.

He rubs at Neal's hole, the smooth skin around it, teases his index finger inside. He can get it in up to the first knuckle easily, the last bit of lube still slick inside him. "So sexy," he says, slipping in a second finger.

"Fuck, Peter - give me a minute. Please?"

Peter licks the semen off Neal's stomach and ignores him. "You can take it," he says, and when he spreads his fingers apart Neal's breath hitches - but he opens, just a little. _Just enough_, he thinks, looking down at his hole.

"You can't be ready to go again so soon," Neal says. And his tone is light but he looks worried. Like he's bracing himself for something. A small crease appears between his eyebrows, some tension in his shoulders. Not so debauched, now. Sore, tired, aching - ready, Peter thinks, his fingers teasing in another half-inch.

"I'll be hard soon enough," Peter replies. "But I'm going to open you up, first."

Neal sighs, an exasperated look on his face. But he spreads his legs even wider (Peter swallows through the jolt of arousal the movement brings) and reaches for the lube.

"Leave it," Peter orders, voice rough. "I want to - I want to fuck you dry." Neal freezes, tensing up around the two fingers Peter's got in him. He twists them experimentally and chuckles when Neal's hips jerk involuntarily. Neal closes his eyes and turns his head away, jaw clenched. His thighs are shaking but he doesn't close them. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to slide all the way inside you, inch by inch. Until you're dying for more. And I'll give it to you, Neal. You know I will." And Neal nods, a small hurt noise escaping his lips.

"Gonna come inside you," he continues, and Neal's limp cock jumps a little. "Come inside you and then watch my cum drip out of your swollen - little - hole," and he twists his fingers with every word, until he's up to the second knuckle. It's harder than he thought it'd be. But Neal's - Neal's not relaxed, like he was.

He's trembling worse than he had the first time they fucked. Little tremors travelling down his body. He's getting tense, trying to control the shaking, but it just makes it worse. His eyes are still closed and that's never a good sign.

"Have I ever hurt you, Neal?" He says quietly. And it's not a question he asks lightly, not an answer he takes for granted.

"No," Neal admits. "You've never - " and then he slaps a hand over his mouth to keep back a cry when Peter gets his fingers all the way in. "Please, I can't - "

"Can't what?" Peter asks, holding still while Neal's hole gets used to the intrusion. The width of his fingers isn't even close to the girth of his cock, and Neal's so tight around them he's afraid to move.

"I'm not a girl," Neal says. "I can't just...it doesn't matter how much you work me - I can't - "

"You're not El," Peter says, when he realizes why Neal looks so pathetically apologetic. So worried. As if not having a cunt, open and wet and ready, will make Peter angry. "I know you're not," he says, and he licks Neal's balls before he pushes his tongue in alongside his fingers.

Neal - Neal _squeaks_, a high pitched sound escaping past his hand, and he starts moving immediately. Such a slut for Peter's tongue. Doesn't matter how sore or tight or tired he is, he'll fuck himself on Peter's tongue until he can't move. But he doesn't want him _wet_, just _relaxed_. So he just licks at the rim. Long strokes across his perineum, teasing at his opening, dipping inside to hear Neal's breath hitch. Neal falls quickly into a pattern, tensing and relaxing with each roll of his hips, and Peter moves his fingers in a syncopated rhythm.

He takes his time. Until Neal's moaning steadily, until his cock hardens on his stomach. "Can I touch it? Please, Peter, can I jerk off - "

He laughs and sits back, his fingers sliding out easily. Neal lifts his hips to follow them - clenches to try to keep them inside - and when he fails just keeps rolling his hips, fucking into the air. Trying to get himself off with the slight rub of his cock against his stomach, and from the sounds he's making, it's almost enough. "Fuck," Peter says, squeezing his cock to keep from coming.

"Stop moving," he orders and Neal obeys. "Look at me." Neal's hazy with pleasure, eyes unfocused. "Neal?" He waits until Neal nods jerkily, some semblance of control regained. "If it hurts _at all_, if you feel like you're going to tear, _you tell me_. And I won't be mad, or disappointed, or anything. I'll lick you and tease you and suck your cock until you come, okay?"

Neal looks nervous again. Which isn't what Peter wanted, but it's better than him being so far gone he wouldn't notice if something went wrong. "I'm going to fuck you now," he says softly. "And I'm going to come inside your greedy little hole, and then I'm going to lick it out of you. You can come as many times as you want, whenever you want." Neal closes his eyes, relaxes as much as he can (precum dripping out of him, if the burn's too much Peter's planning on using it as lube), and nods.

And it does. Burn. He positions himself over Neal and lifts Neal's legs so he'll wrap them around his hips, nudges against his hole until Neal kisses him. Pushes in and _Jesus, fuck_ but he's never felt anything like this. Never this tight, the head of his cock not even all the way in and he can't imagine how the rest of him will fit. "Tell me how it feels."

And Neal tightens his legs, tries to impale himself on Peter's cock. "More," he says, like not having Peter inside of him hurts worse than the burn.

"Does it hurt?" He thrusts as gently as he can and the head's in, he looks down and sees himself - skin against skin, his red cock and Neal's taut hole, skin white around the edge.

"No," Neal says. And Neal just stares at him like _that's_ the most surprising thing he's said all night. "It doesn't hurt." Another inch and his eyes are tearing up. "It feels so good," he says. "You're not hurting me - "

"Never," Peter says, another inch and he knows it's not entirely painless, he can see Neal's cock wilting between them - but Neal's eyes are wide open and wondering, his body wrapped around Peter's and desperate for more. "Touch yourself," he whispers. "Want you to come just like this," and the impatient jerk of Neal's hips into his own hand gains them another inch.

Halfway in and Neal's gasping in huge lungfulls of breath like a racehorse, one hand on his own cock, the other digging into Peter's shoulder. Neal slowly fucks himself farther down Peter's shaft, each hitch of his hips a test, each pleasurable moan against Peter's lips a victory.

He doesn't know if he can orgasm like this. If there's even enough room inside Neal for his cum - doesn't know how he could feel any more, and better, than he does already. And then Neal comes.

It's a surprise to both of them - it's been so long since Neal came without having to ask for it, since his orgasm wasn't preceded by Peter's permission. Neal opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He bucks and twists and comes, his cum spurting out of him, and when he collapses back onto the bed Peter's all the way inside him. His balls pressing against Neal's ass.

"Fuck me," Neal says, his legs falling from around Peter's waist, his arms spread above his head. "Please."

It's the slowest fuck of his life. He can't go any faster when every shift is torment for both of them, when he has to control every breath because he doesn't want to come. Not ever, not if it means this will end - he wants to have Neal exactly like this as long as he can. Gazing up at him with tears clumping his eyelashes together, a small encouraging smile on his lips, a ready kiss when Peter leans in. A whimper but not a warning when Peter bites his neck and grabs his hips tight enough to bruise.

He sits back, eventually, pulling back to look at himself pushing inside of Neal. It seems impossible that all of him can fit. That Neal could stretch so wide without tearing. "Neal," he says, and he can feel it building, feel it building and he's going to come, going to spill inside of Neal, put his cum so deep inside of him - oh, _fuck_ -

"Come for me, Peter," and he does. Pushes inside Neal until his whole body strains with the effort, he can feel his semen spreading around his cock, so _tight_ it spills out of Neal's hole, too much of it, it won't all fit - he shakes and comes and Neal cries and shudders underneath him, trying to get more of him inside, to clench and keep it from spilling - "_Peter_," like a prayer, a thank you, "_Peter!_"

It's a few minutes before he comes back around. Neal's kissing his forehead and running one hand down his back, the other through his hair. He lifts himself up with a groan, and pulls out as slowly as he can. Neal grits his teeth and holds his breath until he's out. He kisses Neal slowly, long and languid, until Neal pulls back. "You said..."

"Yes?"

Neal's blushing. "That you'd...you know." His eyes flicker downward and Peter grins.

"That I'd lick my cum out of you?" Neal nods. "Well. I am nothing if not a man of my word."

He licks his way down Neal's body until he's crouching between his legs. His hole looks raw, bruised, the rim swollen and red. And Peter's cum is dripping out of him. His semen is spilling out of Neal's hole - "don't get too comfortable," he warns. "You're going to come again for me." When he pushes in two fingers and spreads them, he can see Neal's insides, see his white cum against the dark pink flesh.

He licks it up, spreading Neal's cheeks to get as far inside him as he can, to taste himself, to make Neal come again. And he does, a few minutes after Peter gives up on style and technique and just fucks him with his tongue. A strangled yell and Neal's cock shoots a small load onto his stomach. Maybe next time he'll make Neal come until he _can't_, watch his cock jump and nothing come out. Next time. For now he settles on scooping it up and bringing it to Neal's lips. He's too tired to lick it, his whole body limp and useless. He pours it into Neal's mouth and he swallows obediently, biting the tip of Peter's finger lazily.

"You were amazing," he says, cleaning Neal up with a wet cloth. Gently on his cock and ass, rough on his nipples, a caress on his thighs.

Neal, too tired to smile, just curls against him when he climbs under the covers and twines their legs together. Places a kiss against his chest before he rests his head, sighs comfortably when Peter wraps his arm around his shoulders.

"Thank you," he says, when he knows Neal's asleep. "Thank you."


End file.
